Bubbles
by summersquares
Summary: Still early in a Gibbs/Tony relationship, the two men spend the day together. There be bubbles in this story, folks, be warned. Written in the same world as Distress, early in the relationship. Slash. Written for AmyH0127's Bubble Fic Challenge February 2014!


A/N: Thank you all for welcoming me into this enthusiastic (but not exclusive) little fandom. The title is Bubbles but I always think _Bibbles_ from katupnorth's tweet typo. Makes me smile. I hope I didn't break any rules, but other than inquiring after the challenge, I didn't ask about them. Better to ask forgiveness than permission for whatever I have done. Thanks to AmyH0127 for dreaming up this fun challenge and for including me. Thank you, as always to DM for her insightful beta work, not to mention explaining how football works.

Written in the same world as _Distress_, after Tony and Gibbs got serious but still pretty early in what they aren't even calling a relationship at that point but obviously is. In other words, no one else knows, although they spend most weekend days and nights together and occasional weeknights, having already broken the No Weeknights and No Staying Over ground rules.

Squares

February something, 2014

A/N (2): Eeeee! Best Lead In! What a fun award to get. And to be in such Tibbsolicious company as MyShame7 (Home), GibbsandTonysBabe (Rub A Dub Dub Two Men in a Tub), Dinozzos_Probie, and Cackymn! Wow. I can't stay...gotta go read…

Sqs. 3/7/14

**LJG&TD**

Over breakfast Saturday morning, Tony asked Gibbs, as if he couldn't guess, about his plans for the day.

"Looks like it's going to be nice. I'll work on the boat some but probably some yard work too."

"It's not going to be just nice, it is going to be _gorgeous_." And then, a studiously bland follow up statement. "A whole lot of my friends are meeting at the park for a picnic and a big football game."

Jethro looked up, shoved the last piece of eggy toast into his mouth, and mumbled, around the food. "You gonna go?"

"I'd like it if you would come."

Jethro's objections stuck in his throat at this direct appeal. Direct was best. Tony had always seemed to know that, even when it would piss Jethro off. For his part, there were lots of little ways that Jethro tried to let Tony know that he was all in. Not that he was changing his ways, but he'd do the things that he could. For instance, Jethro was up early, days like this one, but he'd just have coffee until Tony was up and then join him for breakfast. He wasn't _waiting_ for him. Man's gotta eat, after all. Now, though, he didn't answer. Just waited to see what Tony would do next.

Tony continued, doing nothing so revealing as playing with his food but instead, his hands were tense, hopeful in their stillness.

"I'll probably go about noon and we play all afternoon. Some of the friends and family stake out grills and tables. I'm in charge of watermelon." That made Jethro smile a little, and he sat back with his mug of coffee, listening. "I know you played. It'll be fun."

Silence. But Jethro was listening.

"You worried you can't take me, old man?"

A blink. Two. A sip of cold coffee.

"Abby's coming, in the afternoon."

Jethro drained the mug, leaned forward and pushed the empty mug onto the table. Tony braced himself for the other man to rise, but he didn't—he just leaned back comfortably again.

Tony, in contrast, was still leaning forward at the table, his whole body focused, somehow, on the other man. His bright eyes flicked over Jethro's face, looking for clues.

"Probably the best weather this week. Forecast is for rain. Might be the last really sunny day for a while."

Jethro laughed, _laughed_, out loud, and Tony blinked in surprise even as his eyes crinkled in happy response. "That's quite a pitch, Dinozzo. Football, food, competition, Abby, weather. If I say yes, how will you ever know what worked?"

"So that's a yes?" Brow creased as eyes lit with possibility.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

The smile that Tony gave him then was the real reward.

Tony helped mow the lawn, get a few other weekend chores done and then they piled blankets and a cooler of ice in the back of Jethro's truck with their gear. A quick stop for watermelon, a 30 minute drive, and they arrived at the park.

"That's a lot of people, Tony." Jethro said as he backed the truck into a space bordering the field.

"More than usual. I guess the weather brought everyone out." Tony was out of the truck and moving before Jethro'd put it in park. He jogged on ahead and Jethro grabbed a cooler and followed.

After introductions, they started playing around. Not an actual game, just throwing the ball back and forth, passing, a little running. There were a lot of kids and some were playing with the adults and others were playing on their own. Jethro waved Tony out farther and the resulting long pass drew whistles and some speculative glances from the team captains.

When the time came to play, though, Tony looked around and found Jethro surrounded by a bunch of boys—he squinted—and a couple girls. They looked like they might be learning a play. He hollered to get the other man's attention, and Jethro jogged over.

"I'm going to keep playing with the kids a while, Tony. You play with your friends." Tony rolled his eyes at how that sounded, thought about protesting—he had really been looking forward to seeing Jethro play—but he was just glad the man had agreed to come. And he _was_ great with kids.

Well over an hour later, Tony was breathing hard, grass stained, and happy. And his team was winning. He heard a familiar bellow.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yeah, Boss!" He straightened and answered automatically and the men around him looked over too. Jethro was walking over from the neighboring field, a pack of grinning kids at his back. "You ready to play a _real_ game?"

The men around him were his friends, and many of them were the parents of the kids running excitedly toward him. Tony noticed, with a smile, that the kids were following Gibbs. Not only was he at the head of wedge of young players, many of the kids were working hard to restrain their obvious eagerness, shooting glances Jethro's way and then squaring their shoulders like he did, keeping their faces serious like his was.

"You built a mutant army?" Tony raised his voice as the kids came closer.

"They were already organized, just needed a leader." The kids circled up around Gibbs.

"And that leader was you?"

"Nope."

"No?"

"No, the leader is Isabella." Quite possibly the tiniest kid in the pack grinned up at Gibbs. Tony knew Isabella of old. She was a tiny 12-year old but he was sure just as fierce as she had been at six when she'd kick you as soon as look at you. "I'm just the coach." Isabella nodded.

Tony looked at the adults he'd been playing with. "What do you say, guys?"

Tony's friend Cody smacked the football from hand to hand threateningly and grinned at his twin boys. "You think you can take us, boys? Kids versus Grown Ups?"

The boys looked up at Gibbs. He shook his head slightly. They looked back at their father and crossed their arms, didn't answer.

Well, that was familiar to Tony and he explained. "Marines don't boast."

And the boys piped up now, one after another. "Rule 15." "Always work as a team."

Isabella stepped from foot to foot. "So, you in?"

Cody nodded. "Sure thing, hot stuff. Let's see what you've got."

They really were very good. Gibbs had played to their strengths, convincing the kids to jump and grab, slip through tiny openings between big bodies, and, once they had the ball, run like hell for the end zone. He had a couple of kids who could reliably catch and they ran out front, and Gibbs himself intercepted a couple of the Grown Up's passes, once managing to flip the ball sideways to one of the kids. The Grown Ups were pretty good at keeping the ball away from the kids but once they had the ball, the kids were virtually unstoppable, streaking down the lawn for yet another touchdown. In the end it was hunger and the unflagging energy of the kids that wore the Grown Ups down and out. The game broke up when the kids were up by three points and self-control went out the window. They whooped and hollered and ran on ahead to the picnic.

Tony jogged up to Gibbs, falling in next to him comfortably. "That was fun."

Gibbs' teeth flashed white in his hot and sweaty face. "Yeah. It was."

"Hey, there's Abby! She brought McGeek." He waved once, and then again, grin splitting his face. "And Kate came too."

"Gibbs! Gibbs!" When they got close, Abby threw her arms around Gibbs and then recoiled. "Ahh! Yuck. You're all sweaty!" Tony was already rummaging in the bag, tossed Jethro a towel and a clean t-shirt. Jethro wiped his face with the towel, whipped off his shirt, and pulled the fresh one on. Three surprised faces blinked at him.

"What?" He smiled at their surprise. They seemed surprised by his smile too. He leaned in and kissed Abby on the cheek, shook McGee's hand, came to stand by Kate. "You been here long?"

"A little while. Can I get you a drink?"

Gibbs accepted. "Yeah, thanks."

The afternoon was not something Gibbs would have thought he'd enjoy. But he did. Tony's friends were surprisingly down to earth. He had frat brothers who were still single but there were also a lot of other men from his college days who must have been older or already matriculated students and now were well-established family men. He had a conversation he'd always meant to have with Kate about her Secret Service days, and McGee listened avidly, looking at Kate with new respect. Tony seemed to be everywhere, but always nearby when there was a lull or when he thought Jethro might need something.

For the first time since they were...together, Gibbs had to restrain himself from touching the other man in public.

At one point, Jethro looked around for Tony, found him perched on a picnic table nearby, listening intently to a couple of women. Jethro was able to observe for only a few seconds before Tony looked up and around, as if hearing his name. In those few seconds though, he took in Tony's windblown hair, the bright green eyes, the sardonic cast to the younger man's lips so at odds with his ability to take pleasure in the moment.

Then those eyes were on his and Jethro couldn't look away. Tony knew just what Jethro was thinking and the answering heat had Gibbs working hard to keep his face blank.

Tony smiled at the women and they beamed at him, even as he made his excuses and moved toward Jethro, coming up next to him to create a small bubble of privacy within the laughing crowd.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Want to go soon?"

Jethro was surprised, thought Tony would want to stay longer, maybe go out with some of his friends later. Said so.

Tony's gaze didn't waver. From their intensity, anyone looking at them would think they were involved in a serious discussion. "No. I would rather go. Home. With you."

"That right?"

"That's right."

"Now?"

"Now would be good."

"Go say goodbye, Tony." And there was that smile again.

**LJG&TD**

By the time they got home, though, the sexual tension had given way to the salty, sun-warmed fatigue of a day spent outside. One of Jethro's knees was killing him and he could feel the muscles in his legs and arms getting tight. He figured Tony'd be in better shape, but had to actually wake the other man up when they got home.

"You want the first shower?"

Tony shook his head, "No. I'm going to soak."

"_Soak?_ A bath?"

"Yep." A twinkle in his eye and Tony's irrepressible grin. "Bubbles and all."

Jethro shook his head and laughed, "Well, I've got to ice my knee, so go ahead and soak."

Tony's forehead creased. "You need help?"

"Nah, I've got it. You go on."

**LJG&TD**

Twenty minutes later, Jethro's knee felt a little better but the rest of his muscles had tightened as he sat on the couch with his icepack, watching the end of a ball game. He felt like an old man as he slowly walked up the stairs. Curious, he walked toward the master bath, pushed the door open and poked his head in. Tony's eyes were shut and his hair was slicked back, head resting against the rim of the tub. Jethro could see his toes and feet, but otherwise, the man was covered in piles of bubbles and the scent of...grapefruit...suffused the humid air of the bathroom.

"You coming in?"

"What?"

"I meant the bathroom, but," and Tony rolled his head toward Gibbs and opened his eyes partway, "you are welcome to join me in here."

Instead of the denial he intended, Jethro observed, "Doesn't seem like there is enough room in there for two of us."

Tony's eyes were open wide now. "You want to get in?"

Every one of Gibbs' achy muscles screamed_ yes!_ Tony took Jethro's hesitation as agreement and stood, water sheeting off his lean body as he stepped out onto the bathmat. He grabbed a towel and, not bothering to dry off, wrapped and tied it around his waist. Jethro wasn't sure why Tony was so modest all of a sudden but by now the younger man was kneeling by the tub and was letting some of the water drain so he could replace it with hotter water and more bubble soap. Tony looked back over his shoulder, all business, though he looked cute with hanks of wet hair falling over his forehead. _Cute? _Jethro thought. Jesus, he had it bad.

Impatient, Tony insisted, "C'mon, Jethro, clothes off. Water'll be ready by the time you get in."

Gibbs had been in hot tubs with women, in hotels, but not since Shannon had he sat in his own tub, and even then, never alone. He shucked off his shorts and boxers, socks and shirt, and then gingerly stepped into the water. His feet felt better instantly. He lowered himself into the water, just short of being too hot, and couldn't stop a groan of relief and contentment as he stretched out under the blanket of bubbles. He knew if he opened his eyes, Tony would be smiling again. He didn't bother.

A couple times, the gentle convection of the water brought bubbles right up to his nose and once he sneezed. And once, Tony came back in and repeated his temperature raising activities so that the bath stayed hot. Jethro wasn't asleep, exactly, but he was incredibly relaxed. Finally, the water cooled enough that Jethro's body was still completely loose and comfortable but he was starting to be more alert. He heard the pad of Tony's feet in the bedroom, the gentle creak of the bathroom door, the squeak of bare feet on tile coming closer. And then, he felt more than heard Tony kneel on the floor next to him and expected, anticipated, the sound of Tony's voice.

Instead, Tony's lips pressed against his. Jethro started to sit up but Tony murmured against his lips, "Shhhh. Don't move." Jethro subsided, relaxed back.

Tony's lips, soft and full, teased his own open. The taste of the younger man, the heat of his tongue and mouth closing over his own was perfect. Tony loomed over him where he lay, blocking the overhead light, but Jethro's instincts to be in charge, to lead, were not aroused. He let himself enjoy the long kisses, loved the way that Tony ended the caress only to kiss his way across Jethro's eyelids and nose. When Tony started down his chin and neck, when his hands slipped below the water and bubbles to press his thumbs to the hard points of Jethro's nipples, Jethro shifted in the water to relieve the tension building.

"Shhhh. Stay still." The soft command brought more heat pulsing through Jethro's cock. He knew this because he could feel the glorious pressure in his groin but also because one of Tony's hands had lifted from where it stroked his chest to slip down to cup and roll his balls before gripping and sliding along his shaft. He moaned.

"_Tony_." This time the younger man stopped him from talking by taking his mouth in another long, deep, kiss. Jethro couldn't help but grip the other man's neck with his own wet hand, holding their mouths linked together. He stood then, slow enough for both of them to gain their feet without ending the kiss, and while Tony made tiny noises of objection—_did he think that Jethro would lay back and let him kiss him until he came?—_Jethro still rose until his wet body pressed hard against Tony's, and his equally wet hand pulled Tony's groin even harder against his own. They both moaned into the kiss and Jethro felt Tony's boxers absorb the water from his hand and body.

"Off." Jethro grunted, pushing at Tony's boxers, even as he reached out with his foot to push the trap off the drain. He knew what he wanted now and Tony seemed willing to play along. Equal in aggression, the two men kissed and touched, bit and stroked, while the tub emptied, gurgling mingling with the sounds of approval and want. Jethro pulled away only to reach over and turn the shower on. Tony dropped his shorts and climbed in with him, shivering and laughing against Jethro's shoulder until the water ran hot again.

"Baby." Jethro mocked.

"Hey, is that the thanks I—" Jethro's hand gripped Tony's chin and his tongue forced its way into the younger man's mouth, growling until Tony wrapped his arms around him, forcing their bodies even closer together.

Jethro rolled his hips and Tony bucked hard at the feeling of their cocks rubbing together. He moved a hand down to wrap around both shafts, the heads slipping against each other and against his grip, a move guaranteed to make this quick but oh, so sweet. Mouths sealed together still, they swallowed the sounds the other made as they came, one after another, indistinguishable in their shared pleasure.

The shower washed the evidence away, and they rested close against each other. Tony's arms were still wrapped around Jethro, and Jethro moved the hand between them to rest against Tony's back. They kissed still, slow, sweet kisses that felt more intimate than the sex had been. It was Tony who finally pulled away, pulled himself together enough to reach for the soap and shampoo.

Fifteen minutes later, they were clean and dry, in weekend jeans and shirts, picking up discarded clothes and wiping up puddles of water. They shared the space easily and—unusual for Tony—silently, both men a little bit stunned by the events of the last hour and both men reluctant to lose the closeness, the feeling that this was another bubble of private space and time for them. If they weren't careful, the bubble might pop.

But the feeling of connection, of space occupied by two people together, persisted when they left the bedroom to go downstairs. It was still there when Jethro started a fire and made cowboy steaks; while Tony baked potatoes and got down the plates; when they sat on the back steps in the growing dark, talking and listening to crickets and the nighttime sounds of the neighborhood. And if, hours later when they crawled into bed together, tired and a little bit sunburned, Jethro's arm wrapped around Tony's waist, Tony's fingers woven through Jethro's...if then, the bubble popped, it didn't matter so much anymore. It would be there in the morning.


End file.
